


Such Goes, My Darling Primrose, A Book Of Poetry

by MAVBunny



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: I'm pretty excited to show off my works, Other, Poetry, enjoy, misc. book of poetry, pretty much any kind of poem that I wrote I'll put here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28628226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAVBunny/pseuds/MAVBunny
Summary: Exactly what it says in the title. Thank you for reading. BTW I'm gifting this to Knifefather on ao3 since I wanted them to see what my poetry looks like, so I hope they enjoy! :P
Kudos: 3





	1. I Fear Nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knifefather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifefather/gifts).



I Fear Nothing, a poem by MAVBunny  
Time doesn't wait for us, it moves forward, it changes to match up with the speed of light, it cares naught for the weeks, the months, the years that pass by, leaving not a trace to be seen or had. Time is forever ongoing, forever shapeshifting, forever masqueraded as a plethora of itself, or a lack thereof of its very being. So don't just wait around in hopes of making an effort through slacking off and dilly dallying, don't waste your life away, when everyone is a star in the making, a diamond begun as unpolished, yet full of such a pure glint of potential, everyone must listen for the knowledge of their worth, a joyous chorus for reaffirming what is written in stone ages ago, no one is born confident, they simply must grow and develop their own to hold themselves high as the mountain tops, life isn't a fairytale, so I am happy that it isn't so. I know I am, and others are as free as nature and happiness, for it has no cost, I know love is infinite, and for that spoken aloud, I am happy. I fear nothing. Like time itself, I move with purpose, and take to the skies so blue, hold my own, and fly.


	2. Ode To The Townsfolk's Hero, A True Love's Ballad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: For this Poem, I wanted to capture the essence of an old poem written as a love letter towards someone the speaker in the poem was madly in love with. This was NOT intended as a love poem towards a crush (unless you count fictional character crushes, lol), so I do apologize if it comes off as a genuine love letter, this is merely a hypothetical person that this poem goes out to (An example: Jonathan Joestar from JJBA: Phantom Blood.). Read it if you want and just imagine it as a message from you towards your favorite fictional crush if you'd like. Thank you.

Ode To The Townsfolk's Hero, A True Love's Ballad, a poem by MAVBunny  
Never so sudden, Never the willing outcome, love tethered to myself heart whole, may the weary souls receive their gratitude and overdue rest, let them see for themselves that their efforts are forever worthy, forever binds with passion aplenty, if need be, marry the stars with the sun and sky, all resounded throughout his smile, held tightly within the embrace of his merry and joyful eyes, watchful and careful, as though he who is a docile beast, shall be blessed and praised by those that witness his wandering feet within the radius of their town. Let her rejoice and feel her love's warmth, the warmth she felt so many a time, for a dream she used to feel deep within her bone's core, has echoed all throughout her very being. Love is made out to be a shallow and fickle thing, Nevertheless, I know within my heart of hearts, he is my lover, my everything, his kisses like a hand cradling my cheeks like a young babe. He knows me better than anyone of the closely knit circle of friends and those of the distantly acquaint, he feels my love more deeply than any other, he holds me with love, with affection the finest anyone could sought out for. I want naught anything more than his arms to hold me with a fervor and kind touch, I am the love who he holds so dear and flush against his heart, his piece he was looking for, for so long, He is my love, and I his beloved. Forever with a heart and soul tethered together for a time and after. Forevermore.


	3. Scavenger's, A Pick Of The Crop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a vent I made months ago, it was mainly about the severe bullying I went through, both at school and at family gatherings, I had been holding a grudge against these people I was wronged by for so long, and now, while I am still working towards coping with the pain of the past, I've been practicing better self care for the past month or so (January 2021), so consider this poem just an old grudge and gripe I've been pretty much over with for the last while, you know? Thank you.

Scavengers, A Pick Of The Crop, a poem by MAVBunny  
I don't see the light of the dawn, not once, not twice, not thrice, I've dreamt of the warmth of the light of day, how it's withheld with malice, and hostility, how the shackles of false sense of self, brought on by the faux freedom of decision from the untrustworthy authoritarian lies of those that pose me to be the enemy of their story, a story they have so chosen to delude themselves, into being the hero of the hour. I didn't ask to be painted in the monochrome hue of the antagonistic heathen that they make me out to be. What they have done, what have they done, what is it for, for naught anything more than the hatred and selfishness within their soulless husks for so called 'hearts'. No more, no more, no less, no fewer, no nonsense, naught, naught, naught! I of the last choice, a reject, a scrapped afterthought, whereas he who is bitter as the thankless winter frost, is the absolute prime and pristine, most perfect pick of the crop, and I of the least, reduced to crumbs for the scavengers, to pick, prod, poke laughter square in my exterior, superficial, surface level, and only used for sadistic merry making, for the rapscallions expense. Oh to be loved, oh to be hated, forever inconsistently praised and ostracized all of the identical like. Sincerely, the scapegoat.


	4. Odds and Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figured I'd upload a few more poems I had stashed away in my word documents, so expect some more on the way, lol, I wrote like a butt load of them. ^^

Odds and ends By MAVBunny  
Clank!  
Clunk!  
Clonk!  
The rattle-tat tat of the old woman rummaging through her cabinet, a cornucopia of mismatched lids and pots, a patchwork of the kitchen's arsenal of culinary tools, serves as the manifestation of piquant plenitude, a simplistic, yet spectacular feast for the five senses, pure entertainment is the soft and low tranquil sound of the rumbling of the boiling borscht soup within a pot well-loved, dented and scratched heavily, a heavy grey hue, if you so please. White noise, noise of all shades and colors, noise of vast quantities of highs and lows, the chitter chatter patter of a crowd of familiar faces and scrambled footsteps, shower the dining place with liveliness and love, the bark yap yip of the old woman's dog, a dog with a heart shaped spot wound round it's left eye, the guffaws and laughter of a young girl running her hands over the velvet fur of a worn and faded teddy, such goes, such comes as it may, as it might, as it will, as it won't, as it does, as it doesn't, life, living, living through a mask of comedy, a mask----tragedy! through sick, through good health, through dusk, through the dawn, a quilted embrace of life's odds and ends.


	5. (CONTENT WARNING: EXPLICIT FICTIONAL MURDER MENTIONING) Raven Of Red, Left For Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to go for a darker route for this poem, not sure why, this was made in early 2020 and I was in a bit of a cynical mood, so I guess this poem was the outcome.

Raven Of Red, Left For Dead, by MAVBunny  
Raven of red, ravenous fella, kissed a bright eyed beauty, by the name of Ella, she shot him down, mowed him down with a single bullet, and took a languorous sip of chardonnay mixed with one of the cheapest brandy, left him for dead, left him in a cold crimson hue, cruel, black and blue. No one heard him scream, that son of a bitch, Raven of red, not one of any have heard the tale, of Raven of red, who was shot and dropped dead, for Ella was wiser than the none, she cremated his body and pours a tall martini glass of his ashes into the unsuspecting lake, makes like a tree and leaves. Scot free, scot free, little miss Ella got away, scot free! Nothing more nothing less.


	6. A Scamp At worst, An Ankle-Biter At Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made and dedicated this poem towards my adorable pet Maltese Poodle mix, Bubbles, she turned three years of age last October in 2020, I'm really happy to have her in my life! See what I did with the poem? It's a little inside joke I have about how mischievous my little pupper is, you'll see what I mean by the title! Hope all of you folks enjoy this poem! ^^

A Scamp, At Worst, An Ankle-Biter, At Best, By MAVBunny  
Rap a tap tap! Tick! A rap a tap tap! Tick!  
A sentient pile of s'more colored fluff and skittishness, rap, tap tapping her little paws across the worn and dingy tiles of the half renovated kitchen, gnawing, nibbling, and chomp a chomp, chomping away at everything in sight, the bellow of a beast much larger than she, sets the stillness and silence ablaze with frustration and consistent disruption, some whining here, some whimpering there, a growl and then some. Astute, and incisive is she, the toasted marshmallow of a creature, her eyes following intently at the nearest tissue, or rather, the slightest sliver of deli sliced-cheese, she strives to receive all that is not of her own, nor will it ever be, a naughty little scamp at worst, an awfully clever and vulpine-minded little ankle-biter, at best.


	7. Broken, Yet It's Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my shitty broken fireplace in the living room downstairs, thank god it's patched and sealed closed with vinyl and Velcro. This was just a funny little poem that I wrote, with the intent to show you how annoying it was until it was sealed shut for good. :P

Broken, Yet It's Alive, By MAVBunny  
A shadowy, and dusky fireplace, sits, it hasn't been used in two of many decades, it resides within the creaky, decrepit house, it hasn't worked for years, unrepaired since the day it ceased it's ability to burn, every dusk, and every dawn, it released cold in the cruel winter, every summer, it emanated heat from the unforgiving sun, regardless of the time, it remained purposeless, unused, as year after year went by, it remained neglected, it was nothing more than an annoyance, it drove the family mad, livid as grayish blue clouds, culminating to the breaking point, to put it in the most elementary of terms, enough was enough! Vinyl, Velcro, adorning the fire place, covering it to prevent any further nuisance, the vinyl , pulsating and breathing like the living and thriving innards of the most benevolent of beasts, although 'twas broken, forgotten memories were left roaring, and alive, like a golden lion.


	8. Everything Under The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here are some fun memories made into a narrative poem about an adult reminiscing about his youth in the boardwalks and beaches up north. I based this on me and my older brother's fond memories of visiting family in the north, during the summer, I hope you like it! ^^

Everything Under The Sun, By MAVBunny  
He remembers the saccharine smell of all things sweet, from saltwater taffy, to kettle-cooked fudge. He reminisces about the hazy warmth of the sunbeams and how the salty sea air wafts all throughout the soggy wooden floor, rotted, nevertheless remains sturdy as those who built it within the years of yore, and yesterday. Pitter pat rat tat tat! Pitter pat rat tat tat! Cha Ching, Cha Ching! The sound of the wild and wispy haired youth, riding along atop their bicycle, guffawing and squealing with delight, as he zips along into the distant end of the boardwalk, growing smaller and farther, 'til him and his trusty bike t'was out of sight. He has the full moon's bulbous and pale smile, engrained in the entry log of his brain, but the sunshine resounded much more prominently, calling him back to his walk from his childhood home, to the sandy, golden brown dunes of the beach, a memory of such a simpler time, feels so faded, albeit, never once forgotten, faded like the fabric of his grandmother's foldable beach chair, its gaudy and boldly floral patterns, held in the box of dreams and soft-serve ice-cream, forever stuck within his thoughts, you could never forget, the joys, the echo of everything under the sun, stays, forever changing, but never once deteriorated.


	9. My Pride, My Joy, Some Assembly Required

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a long while ago back in 2020, with the intent of boosting my self esteem and trying to remind myself that I am able to do anything I can set my mind to, even if I have to work with coping with my social anxiety and all the other disabilities I was medically diagnosed with. I wanted to teach everyone that, even if people think there is something wrong with you, and they think you're missing a few screws up in there, You DON'T have to listen to their ignorance. In other words, I DON'T tolerate discrimination of any kind. Enjoy! ^^ P.S If you are trying to find out who you are in life, just know that it's already inside your heart, and that you're taking the right step to be happy with who you are, by accepting your flaws and loving who you are! ^^

My Pride, My Joy, Some Assembly Required, a poem by MAVBunny  
A girl stands, shakily during a storm, the crackling of thunder ravages the ground around her, she isn't afraid, for she is loved,  
Rejoice, rejoice!  
She knows that she is in control of the electric daggers that pierce the ground, she acknowledges her heart's pain, for she is aware of her rebounding confidence, never fading, never slipping, never breaking down, only once does she break, a breakthrough in store.  
Momentum spiking, momentum springing towards tomorrow, she emerges from a wounded childhood, fully grown, caliber of life, blossoming towards a day so bright, a passion in her soul, set out to find the final piece of her self that she has sought for long time after moment, waiting with a sense of hope, married with an overflowing plethora of glowing credence, an acceptance, that she is human, a being with some supplementary arranging of essential construction of a freshly cut-out path, new as the birth of morning dew. years go by, a healthy dosage of pride gifted to her by hard work paying off, she learns she wasn't missing a piece after all, all was laid out before her, all it needed, was some assembly required.


End file.
